Wayward Son: Perfect Blue
by Rainy Meadows
Summary: Finn's been feeling a little neglected ever since Ed came on the scene, but he's about to find out the hard way that you don't know what you've got until it's gone... or rather, until you're taken from it. Contains spoilers for FMAB and previous WS stories.
1. Chapter 1

The doors slid open.

"You sent for me, Master Cyclonis?" asked Ravess as she stepped into the room.

"Indeed," Cyclonis replied.

There was a third figure in the room. They stood hunched over and bandy-legged, hands in pockets, face concealed by a hood, facing away from the master's pedestal. The markswoman didn't know why, but something about them was sending a shiver down her spine.

"Please escort this person to Terra Atmosia," Cyclonis said. "He has been entrusted with an important mission for the benefit of the Cyclonian Empire."

The stranger looked up, and Ravess forced herself not to flinch at the sight of a beady yellow eye that seemed to stare right through her, and the grin that spread wide across the greyish-green face.

A Merb?

"Master?" Ravess proceeded cautiously. "If I may ask, why have I been selected for an escort mission?"

"You are a sniper, are you not?" asked Cyclonis. "I would expect you to know a thing or two about subtlety and discretion. Therefore I must request that you leave your usual entourage where they are. This is one mission for which confidentiality is vital. Is that understood?"

Ravess tried very, _very_ hard not to stare at her new trustee.

"Yes, Master," she said, and saluted. To the stranger she added, "Follow me."

She turned, and the stranger followed her out of the room.

As she walked through the corridors and halls of the citadel, he was never less than two or three steps behind her. She didn't like it. It gave her the feeling that he could jump her at any second.

Did he have any weapons?

No matter. She could overpower him, surely.

"So what is this mission that the Master has entrusted you with?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

He didn't reply.

"If I'm going to be escorting you to Atmosia, the least you could do is tell me your name."

Still no reply.

"Very well then," she said. "I was only inquiring from curiosity. I didn't expect-"

"Your eyes are interesting."

Even his voice was unnerving. It was like the slither of a snake over leaves, just before it pounces on a helpless pugrabbit.

"Excuse me?" she said, trying to mask her discomfort with anger.

"Your eyes," the stranger said. "I've never seen any like that before. So sharp and yellow, like a hawk. No, like an eagle!"

"Well..." It seemed like a compliment, but Ravess couldn't tell. "Thank you, I suppose."

"Can I keep one?"

Okay. _That_ was a step too far.

"Excuse me?!" she exclaimed.

"Your eyes are pretty." Surely this person couldn't be fully mature yet; he sounded like a teenager! "Can I keep one?"

"No," Ravess said sternly. "Certainly not. I don't even know why anybody would ask such a thing."

"Oh," the Merb said, quietly downcast, "okay."

They passed a pair of Talons, who also tried hard not to stare at the odd stranger.

"I like eyes," he said. "I hurt one of mine when I was a Merbling and now it doesn't work proper, so I like seeing pretty eyes like yours, miss. It makes me want them for myself."

'_Properly_.' Ravess' mind burned with desire to correct the terrible grammar. To do so, she suspected, would only put her on this person's bad side, and she got the sneaking suspicion that to do so would be much, much less than a good idea or anything similar.

"May I at least know the name of my trustee?" she inquired.

"Master says I shouldn't say."

Very well. So it was an _anonymous _escort mission.

"_HA-HA!_"

Ravess stopped in her tracks and grimaced in distaste at the sound of the harsh laugh. She felt the stranger bump into her back, as he obviously hadn't been watching where he was going.

"Well, lookie what we got here!" Snipe cackled as he approached. "My badass big sister on a babysitting job!"

"This doesn't concern you, so leave us alone," Ravess said as sternly as possible, but her words went unheeded as the walking mass of muscle leant down, level with the strange Merb.

"How's it goin', little guy?" asked Snipe in an incredibly patronizing voice. "You havin' fun with Auntie Ravess? You gonna go to the candy store to get some-"

He was cut off when the stranger tilted his head up and looked him straight in the eye.

"Your eyes are ugly," the boy commented. "I don't like them."

"W-what do you care?" Snipe stammered, alarmed by how such a short person could stand up to him like this.

"I think you should get rid of them," said the Merb.

Horrified by this latest statement, Snipe looked at Ravess in bafflement.

"Don't ask me, alright?" she said. "I'm just looking to get this job over and done with."

She walked away, with the stranger stalking in her midst.

"Jeez, what a creep," Snipe commented once he was sure they were out of earshot.

When he looked round, he saw a pair of Talons staring at him.

"AND WHAT'RE YOU LOOKING AT?!" he screamed angrily.

* * *

><p>"The circle denotes the circulation of power," Ed read from his book, "and is the basis of the transmutation."<p>

He barehanded and effortlessly blocked Aerrow's kick.

"In order to call upon and harness the required power," he continued, jumping as the Sky Knight tried to swipe his legs out from under him, "a structural matrix must be drawn on the circle."

With his arm, and with only two steps backwards, he prevented Aerrow's punches from getting anywhere near his face.

"The movements of the body are also a demonstration of the circulation of power," he said, and grabbed the redhead's arm and pulled him so hard that he stumbled past his tutor. "I guess it's best to experience it first-hand."

Once Aerrow had his bearings, Ed shut his book with a snap and beckoned daringly for him to come forward. So Aerrow charged, his bare feet giving him a much better grip on the surface of the runway than his shoes would have provided, pulling his fist back for a good solid punch.

But as soon as he tried to throw it, Ed stepped aside and caught his arm again, and this time his momentum carried him into an ungraceful flip and he landed heavily on the floor. Circulation of power indeed.

"Ow…" Aerrow groaned.

"Yeah, it's about time we gave that a break," said Ed, and he unceremoniously dropped a small stick of chalk onto the Sky Knight's chest. "You go over that info for a while and I'll see about getting some food. You're gonna need a _lot _of energy over the next few months."

He walked away in the direction of the open hangar with a cold wind blowing his golden ponytail out dramatically. He didn't glance in Radarr's direction as the blue creature scampered over to Aerrow, who sat up and dusted the chalk off his chest.

"Don't worry," he said, "he'd never rough me up too bad. I've gotten worse from a sleep-deprived Piper!"

He moved onto his knees and drew a circle on the runway with the chalk, the motion somehow producing one that was perfectly round.

"The circle denotes the circulation of power…" he muttered. "I wonder if it would work with any other shape? Like, could there be a transmutation egg or an oval or something? What about some kind of transmutation square?"

Radarr shrugged.

"It was worth mentioning," said Aerrow, and looked back the circle. "And in order to harness the power…"

* * *

><p>On his way through the hangar Ed passed Junko, who was doing something to Finn's skimmer with a pair of tweezers.<p>

"Uh…" The blond stared in confusion. "What're you doing?"

"Finn thinks some of his hair might've got caught in a mechanism," Junko explained, and he positioned a magnifying lens over his eye before looking back into the workings of the vehicle. "If I could just…"

He withdrew his hand, holding up a small lock of hair in his tweezers.

"There we go!" he said happily. "I dunno how this got here, but knowing Finn, he wouldn't want me to know."

Ed couldn't avoid smiling, and started walking away.

"Oh, hey," said Junko, catching his attention enough for him to stop. "You sure you should be bashing Aerrow around like that? Wouldn't it be best if you, I dunno, let him hit you? Just once or twice?"

"In alchemy, it's important to train the body as well as the mind," Ed explained. "Once he can get through my blocks, he deserves to land a hit. And if I know him, he'll get there eventually."

He started walking again.

"But wait!" Junko piped up again. "I heard you say you needed to draw circles to transmute, but how come you and Al and Aerrow only needed to put your hands together?"

Ed paused again.

"If you think about it a certain way," he said, "then after you go through the Gate and see the Truth, your body _becomes _the structural matrix, and you form a circle by pressing your hands together. I guess you could say seeing the Truth makes you like alchemy on legs."

"Huh," Junko said with a smile. "That's cool!"

Ed frowned.

"I-I mean," the Wallop hurried to backtrack, "it's probably not worth the, uh, mutilation and blood loss and near-death experience and all, but…"

To his relief, Ed snorted in laughter.

"No, you're right," he said. "The downsides of going through the Gate of Truth _massively _outweigh the benefits."

* * *

><p>With a grunt of effort, Piper finished tightening the final bolt, closed the hatch and pulled down a speaking tube.<p>

"Okay, Stork!" she shouted into it. "Try it now!"

She stepped back and removed her goggles as the heating array kicked into action, and immediately a massive air of warmth began to wash around the room. It wouldn't be long before it spread through the vents and reached the rest of the ship.

Her job done, she left the engine room and made her way back to the bridge. Already the corridors felt warmer, which she was grateful for. It was only going to get colder over the next few months. Maybe they could spend some time in the south, where the weather wasn't so harsh.

"Feels like it worked," Stork commented happily. "Ah, sweet warmth, how I welcome thee!"

"You could just put on a few more layers of clothing, you know," Piper pointed out.

"True," Stork admitted, "but there's something that's just so _nice _about being able to stand up here on the bridge, surrounded by warmth and comfort. Besides; when it comes to me, sweaters are extremely appropriately named. And wool gives me a horrible rash."

"Is there actually anything that _doesn't _give you a rash?" asked Piper.

Stork tapped his chin ponderingly.

"Uh…" he said slowly, "some metals, I think. And leather. And oxygen and most crystals. Those are the only things that come to mind right now. Maybe paper too if it's not too old."

Piper struggled to avoid giggling.

She sat down at the bridge table with the squadron log propped up between its edge and her knees and, using her neatest handwriting, began to transcribe.

_Squadron Log 12/22/1915_

_We are currently en route to Terra Atmosia, as despite the fact that he's only been properly training Aerrow in alchemy for a couple of weeks at most, Edward needs to return to his home. He says that his younger brother's birthday is coming up, so it's perfectly understandable. Who wouldn't want to spend time with their family?_

_Speaking of which, he seems to have adjusted relatively well to semi-permanent life on the Condor, and it's likely that not having to sleep in the storage closet has something to do with it I'm still not sure how he managed to bring his own money into Atmos, but I'm glad that he did. Things have gotten a lot better now that we can afford more than one or two meals a day. My one concern is how Starling might react when she finds out her room's become unavailable._

_Aerrow seems to be improving with every passing day, in more ways than one. He's become far more active since his return from solitude on Amazonia, and he's definitely taking this alchemy training to heart. He still has frequent nightmares and occasionally goes into panic attacks if he hears thunder, but it's a far cry from what he was when he first returned to Atmos after… the incident._

_Everybody else has devoted themselves to moving forward as well. Stork's using the extra money we have to buy new parts for the Condor, like the heater I finished installing earlier. Junko has currently preoccupied himself with working on our rides to make them run smoother and faster, Radarr helps out whenever hands smaller than mine are needed…_

_The only exception I can think of is Finn. I'd really expected him to have gotten over his belligerence towards Ed by now, but it only seems to have gotten worse since the guy started living with us. He shoots death glares at him every time they're in a room together and quite often looks for excuses for fights or arguments. Knowing Finn, it's just a cover for something else. I wish he'd realise that he could talk to us about things rather than bottling it all up inside._

_I can't escape the feeling that unless something is done about him soon, he's going to do something reckless._

She paused, as a thought occurred to her.

"Stork, do you know where Finn is?" she asked.

"In his room," said Stork. "Slacking off from his chores again."

Piper rolled her eyes. Having given the ink time to dry, she closed the book with a loud thump, slammed it down on the table hard enough to make Stork jump several inches to one side, and stormed off down the corridor.

* * *

><p>"…<em>where it tips, there's a point where it breaks, there's a point where it bends and a point we just can't take anymore…<em>"

The song was cool, sure, and it was definitely blaring in Finn's ears loud enough to drown out everything else, but it still wasn't doing a very good job of distracting him.

"…_there's a line that we'll cross and there's no return, there's a time and a place, no bridges left to burn anymore…_"

He couldn't stop thinking about how much things had changed since Ed had come on the scene. Not just recently, but ever since the annoying bastard had first shown his face.

"…_we can't just wait with lives at stake until they think we're ready…_"

Finn had known he was going to be trouble from the first moment he saw him, with his shifty eyes and dark clothes and constantly angry face. If he hadn't showed up, who knew how much of their lives would be different?

"…_our enemies are gathering, the storm is growing deadly…_"

Aerrow would still have two arms, for one thing. They would never have had their universe almost destroyed for another, and never would have found out about alchemy or Philosopher's Stones or transmutation circles or any of those great huge piles of crap.

"…_now it's time to say goodbye to the things we loved and the innocence of youth…_"

And even if all of that wasn't true, the Storm Hawks already had one kickass blond fighter that they knew and loved and they sure as hell did _not _need another one. Much less one as irritating and obnoxious and egotistical as Ed.

"…_how the time seemed to fly from our carefree lives and the solitude and peace we always knew-_"

"_**FINN!**_"

He was jolted out of his bitter stupor by a deafening yell from the doorway, and hurriedly paused his music.

"What?!" he demanded as he pulled his headphones off.

"Did you finish all of the sweeping?" asked Piper. "What about cleaning the floor in the bathroom?"

"I've done it, I've done it!" Finn insisted as he sat up. "I did them both already! And what are you, a slave driver?"

"You're the one who's lying around doing nothing, Finn," Piper pointed out. "I've just finished installing the new heating array, Junko's working on our rides, Stork's keeping us on track for Terra Atmosia and Aerrow's training with Ed. After lunch, I want you to come and help me wash the windscreen, alright?"

"Okay!" Finn threw his music player and headphones down on the bed and jumped up, and immediately collapsed from dizziness caused by the rush of blood to his head.

"And _that _is why you shouldn't spend so long lazing around," Piper said smugly.

"Okay, _Mom_," Finn said sarcastically, and pressed up his body on his hands. "You want me to go play outside?"

"No, I want you to help me in the kitchen right now," said Piper. "Since Ed's gonna be leaving us for a while, we want to show him what he'll be missing out on while he's away, don't we?"

"Yeah," Finn said flatly as he stood up (slowly this time). "'Coz we _really _want him to come back."

Arguing with him would be useless, so Piper settled for an exasperated roll of the eyes.

There was just going to be _no_ changing him, was there?

* * *

><p>The stranger stepped off the vehicle, immediately returned to his state of slouching.<p>

"I have no idea what you have been assigned," said Ravess, "nor do I particularly wish to know. However, if it is truly for the benefit of Cyclonia, then I wish you luck."

The stranger grinned in response, and Ravess got the feeling that if she didn't leave soon, she wouldn't be able to see where she was going.

So she left, flying away as fast as her ride would enable her.

Now alone, the teen cast a hooded eye at his surroundings; the buildings, the trees, the immense beacon tower that was like a gigantic punctuation mark for the Atmos…

"This is gonna be fun," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Ed finished folding his shirt and laid it neatly in his suitcase, and was just shutting it when the door hissed open behind him.

"Must feel weird to be back in Amestrian clothes again, huh?" he heard Aerrow ask.

"Yeah," said Ed, and watched his sleeves shift as he rolled his arms around. "Looks like I might have to get something a little bigger though. I think Atmos might be stretching me in more ways than one."

Aerrow sniggered.

"So did you get Al a present?" he asked curiously.

"You bet," Ed replied, and he pulled it out of a coat pocket. "Check it out. You think he'll like it?"

The redhead caught it and held it up so he could see it properly.

"A bracelet?" he said, confused by the sight of the small length of black strap.

"A wristband," Ed clarified. "Fitted with a shielding crystal that I bribed Piper into cutting for me. It'll go towards keeping Al safe while I'm not around."

"You sure that's not a little over-protective?" Aerrow watched how the faintly glowing purple crystal twinkled.

"Can you blame me?" Ed responded. "You never know when someone's going to try to break in and steal all your valuables or try to mug you in the street. Anything could happen to Alphonse without me knowing about it until it's way too late to help. I sure as hell don't want a repeat of last month."

He froze, horrified by his own words.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "That was a step too far, I-I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," said Aerrow, even though he sounded anything but as he passed the trinket back and Ed slumped in relief. "I'm sure Al's gonna love it, coming from you and all; I just wish you didn't have to go."

"It'll only be for a week at most," Ed pointed out as he pocketed the wristband. "And as long as you remember to study and practise regularly while I'm away, we'll get right back into it like nothing happened. Sound good?"

Reassured, Aerrow managed a smile.

"Good," said Ed, and had the gall to ruffle the redhead's red head. "I'll see you then if Finn doesn't assassinate me on the way out."

He walked past Aerrow and left the room, and the Sky Knight looked around at the now empty space he stood facing.

It was going to be a little bit lonely without him around. He'd grown rather accustomed to the blond's harsh voice instructing him on the physical effects of transmutation on the human body and the threat of rebounds, which had been rather nightmarish in how he'd phrased and described it, or telling him to do more press-ups in between detailing the properties of various elements…

Adjusting to his automail seemed rather easy in comparison.

* * *

><p>"See you later, guys!" Ed waved cheerfully to Piper and Finn as he walked down the length of the runway.<p>

"Goodbye, Ed!" Piper lowered her mop and waved in return with a smile. "Come back soon! Tell Al I said…"

She trailed off and watched as the ex-alchemist walked down the length of the runway and looked over the edge.

"Hey, wait!" she shouted as he bent his knees. "What're you-!"

He jumped, vanishing behind the bulk of the Condor's runway, and she was too far away to hear any kind of response from him.

"Ed!" she yelled. "Are you okay?"

Finn paused in his wiping and looked round, obviously hoping for the silence to continue.

"I'm okay!" Ed sounded distant, his voice muffled by the ship. "Just a bit wobbly in the knees! Might have to stop doing jumps like that in the future! I'll see you guys in a week!"

Piper sighed with relief, and Finn went back to washing the windscreens with a huff. He wiped his cloth across the glass with a deafening squeak.

"Finn, the squeak means it's already clean," Piper pointed out.

Finn ignored her, cringing as he peeled off a dead dragonfly and tried to shake it off his fingers. Trying not to giggle at the sight of his desperation, Piper slapped her mop head against the glass and swiped it around, trying to clean off as many dead flies as she could in a single motion.

"This is so gross," Finn complained. "Why did you have to drag me into this?"

"Stop complaining already," said Piper. "You knew this had to be done. We can't fly around the skies if the windscreen's covered in bugs, can we?"

Finn's frown deepened as he finally got the dead bug off his fingers by wiping it on the railing, then returned to wiping.

"You're not just angry about having to do this, are you?" asked Piper. "Is it Ed?"

"Mmmph," Finn responded.

"I thought you'd be happy," said Piper, and used the end of her mop handle to scrape off another dead dragonfly. "He's going to be gone for a whole week. A whole week without him hanging around. Aren't you glad of that?"

"I would be," said Finn, "except he's gonna be coming back. You _know_ he's going to be coming back, so why are you being so chipper about it?"

He paused and stared at the glass.

"What is that?" he demanded, pointing at a vaguely bird shaped mark imprinted there.

"We don't just run into bugs, Finn," Piper pointed out. "You should know we're going to get the occasional bird as well. Looks like this one must've been an owl. I hope it wasn't too badly hurt."

As she started wiping at it with her mop, Finn looked over the railing and saw Ed disappear behind a tree, heading in the direction of the Breach. Perhaps if the stars were to align in the right fashion and Lady Luck were to smile on the marksman, a branch would drop off and land on him, crushing him and erasing him from their lives for good.

But no. He soon came into view again, and stepped into the glowing, throbbing sheet of light that was only there because of him anyway.

"Finn, when are you going to get over him?" asked Piper, who had almost finished scrubbing off the bird print. "I figured after his younger brother saved your life-"

"Al's different," Finn protested, forcing himself to look away from the eye-sucking brightness of the Breach. "Not only is he a bajillion times nicer, but he didn't try to start something with me the moment we met. He actually _apologised _for not being able to get to me sooner, whereas his son of a bog-howler brother has only just started trying to make up for Aerrow losing his arm-"

"That wasn't his fault!"

"It is and you know it!" Finn slapped his cloth hard enough against the glass to make it shudder worryingly. "And the sooner you realise how much worse everything's gotten since he showed up, the better!"

He left the bunched up cloth where it was and turned and walked away, stomping angrily like a horde of elephants.

"I'll just finish this by myself then, shall I?" Piper called.

No reply.

"Selfish jerk," she muttered, peeling his cloth off the window and throwing it down into the bucket. "Who the heck does he think he is; Harrier or something?"

* * *

><p>Mid-December in Amestris tended to not be the most pleasant of times, even with the geography of the country. There was a distinct chill in the air: the trees had all shed their leaves, ice formed in deadly patches on roads and sidewalks and on people's doorsteps, the flowers and grass were given over to sparkling frost and people tended to avoid each other on the street, more focused on getting to their destinations as quickly as possible than making idle conversation.<p>

Ed was forced to remember this as he stepped away from the Breach and into the courtyard of Central Command, which appeared to have finally lost the scaffolding it had borne the last time he had laid eyes on it. The cold washed over his body like a waterfall and the stump of his left leg immediately began to complain extremely painfully.

'Dammit,' he internally swore. 'Should've wrapped up warmer.'

He knelt down, popped open his suitcase and pulled out the scarf that Granny had given him (along with a warning about frostbite and hypothermia) and once he'd wrapped it snugly around his neck and greeted the guards that stood blankly on either side of the Breach, he started moving towards the way out.

It was remarkable how quickly everybody had adjusted to the fact that their world was suddenly permanently connected to another. It had been less than four months since this entire region was nearly annihilated by a Cyclonian army and now it seemed to just be business as usual. Alright, there was now a spot in the courtyard that a majority of people had trouble looking at directly, but that was about _it_.

Then again, if people could accept an extra-dimensional being trying to turn every single person in the nation into a Philosopher's Stone so that it could literally obtain God, they would most likely be prepared to believe _anything_.

As it was, the former Fullmetal Alchemist drew a surprisingly small amount of attention as he approached the stairway that would lead him down to the streets of the city. The elevator was meant for vehicle transport, so it wouldn't make a lot of sense to ride it down, despite how much more convenient it would be.

It felt strange to walk through this place so casually when at the beginning of that year he would have done anything in his power to avoid it…

Still, because of his affiliation with the military, he and his family were the first (and perhaps only) civilians allowed to access the Breach. There was still no word on people from Atmos other than the Storm Hawks being allowed through, but it would probably happen eventually. Most likely when proper ambassadors were elected for either side – it all seemed to be taking rather a while.

Of course, Ed was far from an expert on diplomacy, but he figured that things would only go downhill if Brigadier General Mustang was chosen for the role. Maybe General Armstrong would do well…

These thoughts were unfortunately chased out of Ed's head as he emerged from the command centre and reached the street, and was faced by a crowd of yelling, angry people waving signs and banners behind a barricade. He tried to read them: some were creative like "SKY KNIGHTS ARE PIE IN THE SKY" and "ATMOS IS A LOAD OF HOT WIND", others bore such less imaginative slogans as "AMESTRIS DEMANDS TRUTH ABOUT ATMOS" and "ALIENS GO HOME" while one person held a rather confused-looking "LOWER COAL PRICES NOW" that appeared recycled from some previous protest.

"What the hell is going on here?" Ed asked a nearby soldier, despite the answer being rather obvious.

"These chaps turned up seven days ago," the man explained, his face mostly hidden by a fringe of combed blond hair. "They don't seem to be too fanciful in their intentions, though one foolish ass hopped the rail and tried to hurry in. We only just managed to halt him at the ingress and the silly fool was screaming the entire duration."

Frowning, Ed stepped forward.

"Hey!" he shouted. "All of you shut up for a second!"

Surprisingly, the crowd went quiet.

"Don't any of you have families you could be caring for?" he asked. "Or jobs you could be doing? Is this _seriously_ the best possible thing you could be doing right now?"

"We want the truth about that Atmos place!" shouted the man holding the "HOT WIND" sign. "What's really going on up there?"

"Are they allies or enemies?" demanded the woman with the "TRUTH ABOUT ATMOS" sign. "Can we trust them or are they planning to invade us? We want the truth! WE WANT THE TRUTH!"

It wasn't long before the whole group was chanting those four words over and over again, accompanied by foot stomping and the banging of their signs on the ground. It wasn't as loud as Ed had expected: now that he looked properly, there were only around 50 people there, maybe even less. Enough to be noticeable, but not really a big enough number for the folks in the command centre to be concerned about. No wonder there were only a couple of soldiers out here to make sure things stayed calm.

So he stood his ground, suitcase in one hand, knitted scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, and glared at the shouting, sign-waving assembly who seemed to honestly think they were going to make an impact. He didn't clench his fist. He didn't even scowl that hard. He just stood in one place and forced himself to appear as stoic and unsettling as possible.

It seemed to work. Once they realised he wasn't intimidated, they quickly fell silent.

"Go home," he commanded. "Take care of your brothers, sisters, kids, parents or whatever. Earn some cenz so you can feed yourself. Don't just stand here yelling about something you're not going to get by doing nothing but yelling about it."

"Roy Mustang managed to take down Central Command with only a handful of men!" the "HOT WIND" man shouted. "Why can't we make an impact too?"

"Not only is Roy Mustang a very powerful alchemist and a more-than-capable soldier," Ed pointed it out, much as it pained him to compliment the Flame Bastard, "but he had assistance not only from General Armstrong and her forces from Briggs, but also from Xingese visitors and from me. I'm Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Look me up."

Nobody dared to argue against him. There wasn't any point in looking up Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, because everybody there knew who Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist was. It was pretty much impossible for anybody to _not _know who Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist was.

"So I'll say it again," he continued. "Go home. Or to work. Or do some shopping, buy some groceries. Call your friends or your parents and ask about your day. Go on a date with your boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse or whatever. Because this? This is achieving less than nothing. What you're doing here is just a massive waste of time."

His point made, he turned and walked confidently away down the street, trying to focus his thoughts on something more pleasant than what he had just experienced.

Of course people would want more information. Why wouldn't they? A single front page news spread followed by the occasional page 8 paragraph wouldn't sate them for very long, and they would want to know more about this world that was now a part of their own. But did they have to go about it in such a silly way? They'd closed the road, for Pete's sake!

No. Focus on more positive things. The train ride. The warm carriage. Seeing Winry and Granny again. Getting to pet Den again and letting her slobber all over his face.

Seeing Alphonse's smile again.

He felt around in his pocket and closed his fingers around the wristband, running his fingers over the stone set into it.

Yeah. Seeing Al again would make this all seem worth it.

Somehow.

* * *

><p>Finn didn't care who he bumped into or what he stepped onin as he strode, swinging his fists and frowning so hard his face threatened to turn inside out if he furrowed his brows any further.

He just couldn't believe that even after this much time had passed, everybody else was still totally head-over-heels for Ed. Couldn't they see how messed up everything had gotten since he'd bulldozed his way into their lives? How much better could things have been if he hadn't showed up? They could be vacationing on Terra Tropica right now but instead they'd stopped on Atmosia to drop him off and clean the windscreen!

And then there was everything that happened to Aerrow, and how different things had been ever since Atmos got connected to Amestris what with all the soldiers swanning around, acting like they owned the place. How many were there in this town right now? Ten? Twenty? Too damn many, that was for sure.

Scowl still painted across his face, he sat down on a nearby chair and crossed his arms and legs. Looking out at the area around him, he could only see one person in Amestrian uniform, and it was a young woman with a tight dirty-blonde ponytail and a frown almost as deep as his. He didn't even know what she was angry about, but he figured he could probably relate to it.

His gaze wandered to one side, and then up, at the tree that was growing nearby, completely bare of all leaves, flowers or possible fruit due to the season. He didn't know why, but somehow he could relate to this barren tree as well.

"Moody, are we?"

"GAH!" Finn almost jumped out of his skin when he realised that his chair was next to a table, at which another person was sitting. "D-Dr Clipwing! Hi! What're you doing here?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" the black-haired man asked, also frowning behind his glasses and not turning his acid-green eyes to Finn. "I swear these silly cartoons are just getting lazier every day. Is that supposed to be Cyclonia? It looks more like a femur with osteoporosis."

He took one hand off his newspaper and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating that they were, in fact, outside his office.

"What are you doing here?" the doctor asked, reaching for his coffee. "Aren't you in a squadron now? Don't you have things you could be doing?"

"Probably, but they all suck," Finn complained. "I'm not gonna freeze my ass off-"

"Of course you aren't. The gluteus maximus isn't affected by frostbite or any other conditions which could cause loss of body parts, to my knowledge. Besides, I think you'll find that this weather is relatively mild considering the time of year. Certainly warmer than it was last year. I blame coal."

'Jeez,' thought Finn, and he rested his jaw on his hand and his elbow on his knee. 'Dr Clipwing? More like Dr Buzzkill.'

"I'll say again," said Dr Clipwing, and sipped on his coffee. "What're you doing here? Surely you didn't get out of bed this morning planning to do nothing but rampage around Terra Atmosia looking like a four-year-old child whose parents made him an appointment with me without telling them. So what brings you to my practice this afternoon?"

Finn huffed through his nostrils.

"Would you like a tissue?"

"Nah," said Finn. "I'm just pissed about everything that's changed since we found out about Amestris. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"No," Dr Clipwing replied, and he set his coffee – black and most likely sugarless – back on the table. "I haven't had any more or less appointments or call-outs since the incident a few months ago, and they don't seem to have become any more unusual. At least, not so you'd notice: I had one rather embarrassed man last month who claimed to have accidentally sat on his glasses, but that doesn't quite explain how far up they got. Why do you ask?"

Finn just stared at him.

"Is there something on my face besides glasses or a mole?"

"No, it's just- that sounds weird."

"Par the course for my job, you'll find. You're just a trigger-happy pubescent; I wouldn't expect you to be an expert in the medical field."

Finn's mood somehow sank even lower than it had been. He didn't like people speaking down to him, or even the implication that someone might be speaking down to him.

"Is this a personal matter?" asked the scruffy-haired doctor. "Because if it is, you would be better off speaking to Flora or Fauna. I gave them the day off to work the shop: with more people hanging around this place, there are more people wanting food and assorted stationary items."

"Um…"

"So leave me alone."

"Uh…"

"_Go away_."

"Okay!" Finn jumped up from his chair and hurried away.

Dr Clipwing was good at what he did (being the only qualified doctor on Terra Atmosia, it was something of a necessity) but damn if he was completely unsociable. Finn found himself glad that the tree wasn't fruiting because otherwise he would definitely have had an apple fired at him at high velocity from the doctor's pressurised cannon.

It wasn't any wonder that he needed two assistants rather than the single one that most doctors presumably had. There needed to be two because a single person wouldn't be able to put up with him for more than half an hour!

Not that Finn minded, as the Cloudbuster twins were both pretty cute, if a little annoying at times. Fauna in particular didn't seem to like him all that much, and Finn had never known why. He was awesome. Every girl wanted to date him.

Except maybe Piper. And Starling, and Dove hadn't seemed to keen either…

Okay, so maybe not _every _girl wanted to date him, but he still had his fair share of fangirls!

As he walked, he caught sight of the shop that the girls ran part-time to pay for their rent. One of them was standing out front, and judging by the vivid orange of her pigtails, it was Fauna.

Finn took a deep breath. Her bark was worse than her bite, but it was a very loud bark: the type that woke you up at three o'clock in the morning and made you regret moving in next door to a neighbour that bred bull terriers.

"Hey, Fauna!" he said as he approached, trying his utmost to appear cool. "How's it going?"

"I'm doing a lot better than you," the girl replied. "What're you doing out here, shrimp? Don't you have other people you can be annoying?"

"Fauna!" Finn's spirits soared as the second of the twins emerged from inside the building. "Why are you always so rude?"

Unlike other twins, it was easy to tell the Cloudbuster sisters apart due to their inverted colours: that is to say, while Fauna had flaming orange hair and bright blue eyes, Flora had bright blue hair and flaming orange eyes. It was funny how nature worked sometimes, but Finn didn't care since both of them were so pretty, and their freckles were really damn cute.

"Hello, Finn!" Flora said cheerfully when she saw the marksman. "Are you having a good day?"

"I am now that I'm seeing you," Finn replied with his most charming smile. "You're looking especially cute today, Flora. I like how you did your hair."

"Back off, shrimp," said Fauna sternly as Flora giggled and blushed. "You know we're years too old for you."

Finn shrugged.

"What're you here for, Finn?" asked Flora as her sister disappeared into the building with a roll of her eyes. "Did you guys need some more flour? I know you like pancakes but-"

"Nah, I'm just wandering right now," said Finn. "I'm pissed off at how excited about Amestris everybody is. I mean, what good are they actually doing for us right now?"

"They're giving us business!" Fauna yelled from inside.

"That's true," Flora pointed out. "You won't believe how many of those soldiers need to write something down _right now _but don't have anything to write with, and some of them go to work in a hurry and forget to eat in the morning!"

"Bunch of morons, all of them!" shouted Fauna.

"They're not morons, Fauna!" Flora responded. "How many times have you forgotten the Doc doesn't take cream with his coffee?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah, that's kinda true," said Fauna.

Finn's face fell. Just for a moment, he had hoped that _someone _would agree with him.

"Are you okay?" Flora had noticed his disappointment. "You didn't fall out with your friends, did you?"

"No, we're cool," said Finn. "You know what? I can see you're both busy, I'm just gonna go."

"Don't-"

"It's fine, I'm going."

Dejected, he turned away and walked idly in the direction of the Breach.

He knew that there were probably plenty of people in Atmos who agreed with him – who agreed that things had probably become a lot more troublesome since Amestris emerged onto the scene – but he had no idea where or who they were. He knew that Harrier was opinionated, as usual, but there was no way he was going to try to find common ground with that pompous asshole.

He was alone.

And he knew it.

He turned to avoid the Breach in all its throbbing, glowing glory, and leaned against a nearby building, on its corner next to an alleyway, to stare at it for a while. He didn't even care how weird it made his eyes feel.

He was tempted to step through, walk right up to the nearest authority figure he found and tell them exactly what he thought of their little expeditions into his world, but he knew that he would probably be arrested on the spot if he tried that. And then Aerrow would have to come and bail him out and Piper would tell him off for getting into trouble and Junko would ask questions and Stork would roll his eyes and Radarr would do _something _to tell him how much of an idiot he was…

…and if Ed was there, he would just laugh.

Every group needed a loser. A dumb one to make everybody else look good. And it seemed that for the Storm Hawks, the individual chosen for that task had been Finn.

But why him? Was he just not as good as everyone else? Nobody else was as good a shot as him, so he was definitely needed on the sharpshooting front, and-

"Don't move."

The whispered order from behind him coincided with something small, thin and very sharp being pressed against his neck.

"O-okay," he said, staring dead ahead and not daring to disobey.

"Step to my side," the whisperer commanded. "Slowly. Try any funny business and I'll carve your windpipe out."

"Okay, okay," said Finn, and he carefully stepped so that he was in front of the alley. "Please… just don't hurt me… I have friends; they know where I am-"

"_Shut your mouth._"

This wasn't stated in a whisper, but in a snarl that sent shivers down the blond's spine. He knew that he wasn't going to get out of this very easily.

"You're going to go exactly where I tell you to go," said the whisperer. "If you don't, you die. Understand?"

Finn nodded, carefully and fearfully, terrified that he might accidentally slit his own throat with the motion.

"Turn."

A finger in his back indicated for him to turn towards the alleyway, and he did so while leaning as much as he physically could away from the blade pressed against his neck.

"And walk."


	3. Chapter 3

Piper's mop slid off her shoulder, and she was unable to catch it due to the bucket and other cleaning implements she held, but luckily Aerrow was there to catch it as it bounced off the floor.

"Looks like you could use an extra hand," he commented as the door slid closed behind her and closed off the cold air of the outside.

"More like three," Piper said bitterly. "And before you ask, yes: I did get Finn to help me. But then we had a disagreement and he stormed off. Didn't even look back over his shoulder. Can you help me put all this stuff away since it's obvious he's not going to?"

Aerrow slung the mop over one shoulder and took the still-half-full and rather heavy bucket out of her hands. He made sure he carried this in his right hand, as he still didn't want to put too much strain on his left.

"So what did you and Finn disagree about that made him storm off?" he asked as they walked down the corridor.

"Ed," Piper said simply. "And Amestris. He doesn't want to think that things have been getting better ever since we found out about either of them. I don't think he's trying to be racist – or perhaps a better word would be 'worldist' – but he does seem pretty closed-minded about the whole thing. You'd think over a year would be long enough for someone to change, wouldn't you?"

Aerrow hesitated in thought.

"When Ed was first here, Finn thought he was gonna be replaced," he recalled. "I thought I'd reassured him about that? I guess I'll talk to him and see what the problem is."

"The sooner you do that, the better," Piper commented. "I hate it when Finn gets mopey."

"Why? 'Coz he skips out on his chores?"

"There is that, but it's more that it's just downright depressing. Aside from Junko, he's probably the most cheerful out of all of us, and when he gets down in the dumps, it's contagious."

It was true, though the thought of it was amusing.

"Like I said," he said as they approached the storage closet, "I'll see if I can get him to tell me what's up."

It was only after this conversation was over that they noticed Junko crouched at the storage closet, fiddling with the door.

"Uh, Junko?" Aerrow said in bafflement. "What are you doing?"

"Um…" Junko smiled in nervous awkwardness. "I was putting my toolbox away and I think I accidentally locked the keys in there, heh…"

"Not to worry," said Aerrow. "RADARR!"

There was a crash from elsewhere in the ship, followed by a faint scream of rage from Stork and a rapid approaching pitter-patter of paws on metal until Radarr reached the trio and stood up straight in a proud salute.

"Junko accidentally shut his keys in the closet," said Aerrow. "Do you mind getting them out?"

Radarr rolled his eyes and pulled off a nearby vent cover. He slipped in with a strange slithering noise of fur on smooth metal and the thumping of his limbs against the insides of the shaft echoed out of the entry.

"I bet Finn would find some way to pick the lock," said Piper, "once he'd finished cracking jokes about it, of course."

"Hey, where is Finn?" asked Junko. "I saw him walk off a while ago and he hasn't come back since?"

"Walk off?" Aerrow seemed alarmed by this revelation. "You mean he left the ship?"

"Well, yeah," Junko replied far more calmly. "It was only about five minutes or so after Ed left, I think. I tried to tell him about the adjustments I'd made to his ride and he just ignored be and headed off onto the terra. He looked really mad about something, but I didn't want to ask what."

"But Ed left almost two hours ago," said Piper, and worry was beginning to invade her voice. "You don't think Finn's gone and gotten himself into trouble again, do you?"

"This is Finn we're talking about here," said Aerrow. "Odds are he probably just needs to let off a bit of steam and take some time to think. I'm sure he'll be back before nightfall, and somebody would let us know if he'd gotten himself arrested, right?"

Junko and Piper nodded in agreement, but neither of them looked convinced.

The door slid open next to them and Radarr stood there, deadpan-faced and jingling Junko's keys in one paw.

"Heh," Junko laughed nervously again as he accepted them. "Thanks, buddy. I'm just… gonna go now…"

He ran away as quickly as he possibly could.

"That was awkward," said Piper.

"You think we should put this stuff away and then see what Stork was so mad about?" asked Aerrow.

"Yeah," said Piper, "that sounds like a good idea."

* * *

><p>Stork had never bothered to learn any languages other than that which he always spoke, and that which was spoken by almost every sapient creature in Atmos (and apparently Amestris too). And besides, it wasn't like he'd ever been to school or anywhere that would teach him. He'd occasionally overheard Piper studying in her room, but none of it had rubbed off on him.<p>

However, at this moment, he was proving to be very proficient in Angrish.

"Cummun you fruggin-" he groaned, straining with the effort of pulling, since lubrication didn't seem to have worked. "You sonna momma canna gutta gumman- AH!"

He was thrown back as the crystal came out of its holster with a faint _pop_, and landed on the floor on his back, almost losing grip on his forceps, staring up at the rusty ceiling with rage boiling in his blood.

"WHERE IS AN ALCHEMIST WHEN YOU NEED ONE?!" he screamed.

"Right here," said Aerrow, who entered his field of view with an expression of concern. "What're you doing?"

"One of the engine crystals needs replacing," said Stork, holding up the fading crystal, "and because SOMEONE gave me rubbish lubricant, I had to pull it out myself!"

"You didn't think to ask Junko? I'm sure he would've done it for you."

Stork scowled up at him.

"Are you really that used to being by yourself?" asked Aerrow as the Merb got up. "I would've thought you'd learned by now that you could rely on us-"

"It's not that!" Stork insisted, and fished a fresh crystal out of a nearby crate. "Right now-" he started hammering it into the empty slot with his forceps, "I'm just trying-" BANG "-to fix-" BANG "-my Condor's-" BANG "-engine!"

With a final BANG the crystal slid into the correct position and the engine let out a happy-sounding hum of acceptance.

"Right," Stork said with a smile that was half-satisfied and half-demented, "if we leave now, we might just catch the end of the Solstice celebrations on-"

"We can't leave," said Aerrow. "Finn's gone walkabout and none of us knows where he is."

Stork gave him the most 'are you kidding me' look the world has ever witnessed, and that's saying a lot.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "I guess we can stay here for a little while longer. If he's not back by morning, I say we head off without him. He'll figure his own way back to us. He's gotten himself out of worse. How many times how has he got his head stuck in his ride?"

Aerrow found himself wondering about this. Was it twice or thrice?

"Trust me, Flyboy," the Merb said bitterly as he walked out of his engine room, "if there was one of you that I could choose to _not _let onto my ship… Radarr would probably be the first pick because of his fur, but Finn's a close second."

* * *

><p>"One more noise and you're really gonna get it," he snarled through gritted teeth. "Do you hear me? Either pipe down or I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born!"<p>

_popowEEEESH_

Growling in rage, Finn rapped his knuckles as hard as he could against the piper.

"SHUT UP!" he shouted. "Just SHUT UP ALREADY! _DAMMIT!_"

He tried to relax, taking several deep breaths, though he knew that if he relaxed too much he would probably break from a completely different and far more urgent kind of strain.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, trying to ignore the faint jangle of thin chain, "so that was two _greenaw_s and a _popoweesh_, and the next in the sequence should be a _hurgle_."

He fell silent, looking expectantly – or at least, doing his best considering his current position – at the pipe he was currently cuffed to.

_squEEEF_

"What?" he gasped. "Not _squeef_! It should be a _hurgle_! If you're gonna make random noises, you could at least make random noises in a proper order, goddammit!"

Part of him knew how insane it was that he, the Great and Powerful Finnster, would be so ticked off by the irregularity of gurgling old pipes, but he didn't have very much else to focus on. The bathroom was pretty much featureless except for the suspicious mildew in one corner and the dirt that covered the edges of the mirror, and the toilet he sat on – lid down, of course – smelled of something he didn't want to name, but that was about it. It was probably the worst bathroom he'd ever been imprisoned in.

And, admittedly, the first bathroom he'd ever been imprisoned in, but that didn't stop it being the worst.

To make matters even less agreeable he couldn't even look at these noisy pipes properly with them (and his hands) being fixed behind his back. If this was what being kidnapped was like then being kidnapped _sucked_.

_GREEEEEnaaw_

"SHUT UP!" Perhaps the short chain length, meaning he couldn't move his hands all that much, was responsible for the lack of satisfaction he drew from hitting the pipes with his curled up fingers. "JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT U-"

The door slid open as he screamed his final 'shut up' and before he could get as far as the final capitalised letter, there was a knife again.

But this time, rather than his neck, it was directly under his right eye, and his captor was leering into his face and practically dripping with hair grease. Finn still had no idea who he was – and didn't really want to know, since 'the guy with the knife' seemed sufficient – but was still alarmed at the sight of his yellow eyes and odd-coloured skin. He hadn't expected his kidnapper to be a Merb.

"How about _you _shut up?" And he didn't even sound all that old! "'Coz when you hit those pipes, you know what happens?"

No matter how much Finn leaned back, he couldn't get away from the blade stinging against his cheek.

"Uh…" He searched desperately for an answer that wasn't snarky. "It… gets noisy?"

"Yes," said the Merb, though the word wasn't so much spoken as forced out with a slither. "So noisy, in fact, that you could probably hear it if you were standing outside the ship!"

"Except I'm not standing outside the ship, am I?" Finn pointed out, "I'm chained up in here and you still haven't told me why!"

"It's. Not. Important."

Finn gulped. As far as he was concerned, the worst kinds of psychos were the ones who didn't give a damn why they did what they did.

"What _is _important," the young Merb continued, "is that you stay nice and quiet. Understand?"

"I understand! I understand!" Finn spluttered. "Now can you please move that knife somewhere else? Like, away from my eye? Please? _Please?_"

He glanced down at it. The blade was small, more like a scalpel than an actual knife, but it was definitely sharp. Sharp and shiny and very, very close to his eye.

Strangely, an expression of curious puzzlement crossed his captor's scarred features.

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" he asked.

Finn had to try very, very hard not to flinch or wet his pants when he heard this statement.

"W-what?!" he stammered.

"They're really pretty," said the Merb. "Really blue. Almost like the sky just before sunset, or just after dawn. They might actually be prettier than the eyes from that eagle lady."

"Eagle lady?" There was only one person Finn knew of whose eyes literally resembled those of an eagle. "You mean Ravess? So you work for Cyclonis? Is that it? But why'd you take me? Why not Piper or Aerrow or someone more important? 'Coz I'm just-"

His petrified ramble was cut off by a sharp yelp of shock and pain as the blade was pulled down his cheek. He didn't know how large the cut was or how deep it was, just that it felt very painful, like someone was pressing a white-hot iron against his face, and he could feel blood trickling down his jaw to his neck.

"Your mouth isn't; it's ugly," said the Merb, and his manner of speaking was dangerously quiet. "So please keep it shut good and tight if you want it to stay fixed to your face."

And just like that, he released Finn from his grip, and the marksman was left slumped and panting on the closed lavatory.

"W-wait!" he found himself gasping just before his captor left.

The Merb froze.

"Couldn't you at least let one of my hands free?" asked Finn, despite his conscience screaming at him to stay quiet as requested. "If I'm gonna be locked up in a bathroom, I might as well be able to actually use it!"

Still the young humanoid remained still. Finn didn't know if he was thinking the request over or not, and honestly he wasn't too sure if he really wanted to know.

Then he stepped out, and the door closed behind him.

There was his answer, Finn supposed. He was to remain here, chained up and busting for the bathroom, until this guy did whatever it was that he wanted with him.

It would make more sense if he was working for Cyclonia. Those bastards would go through any means to achieve their ends, no matter how inhuman or despicable either the means or ends were. But if that was the case, of all the Storm Hawks or even sky squadron members that could have been singled out, why did it have to be Finn?

He knew that he was an important part of the Storm Hawks. He was the sharpshooter, and Aerrow's wingman on top of that. His eyesight was envied all over the world and was probably matched only by the gorgeous glittering brown eyes of Captain Riza Hawkeye. Was that the reason he had been taken? Because they couldn't function without him?

Or was it because he actually wasn't as important as he wanted to think he was? Had he been taken because he was the one member of the squadron destined to save the Atmos who wasn't going to be missed or could easily be replaced? He may have been the best at his job, but he certainly wasn't the only half-decent marksman in this world or the other. The aforementioned Captain Hawkeye could probably shoot circles around him (and maybe she would, given the chance, and Finn would definitely give a chance to see her in action once more).

So which was it? Kidnapped because he was valuable or kidnapped because he was valueless?

He didn't know, and again, he wasn't too sure he really wanted to know.

Just as he was resigning himself to a night sat chained to a toilet, the door opened again and the stranger stalked over to him, and after a few seconds of fiddling, Finn felt the pressure release from his left wrist.

"You try anything clever," said the Merb, "and you'll never leave this ship alive."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Finn. "Thank you."

Without another word, he was left alone again.

Was he gone for good? Was Finn going to be left alone properly this time? Or was he going to explode through the door again, knife in hand, and try carve off his lips?

Still tentative, Finn stood up – awkwardly, since he was unable to lift both hands – and tried to get a good look at his face in the mirror.

The cut on his cheek wasn't as long or deep as he had expected. It reached from just under his eye to halfway down his cheek and only a couple of millimetres in, but there was still rather a lot of blood dribbling down his face and already beginning to dry. He could feel (and see) it pooling on his chin, and he wiped it off before it had a chance to drip.

It felt almost strange to see so much of his blood like that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd received any wounds like this.

And with this cuff still around his right wrist, there wasn't any way he would be able to reach the sink to wash all this blood off.

'He didn't even blink,' he found himself thinking. 'What the hell? That whole time, he wasn't even blinking. What was with that? That's one seriously messed up dude.'

_HUUUURgle_, said the pipe.

"_Shut up_," Finn growled through gritted teeth.

He really didn't want to have to actually use this toilet. It stank worse than the stink bombs he reserved for when he wanted to play a particularly cruel prank and it looked as though it had been through more than its fair share of drunken vomitus assaults. Plus he did _not _feel comfortable using a toilet which was probably going to complain at him.

But it didn't look as though he had much of a choice.

* * *

><p>Aerrow turned this way and that, trying to get even the slightest glimpse of gravity-defiant blond spikes, but even with his binoculars perfectly focused, he couldn't see Finn at all. He would have put it down to the darkness of the night or all the buildings that were in the way, but it was far more likely that it was just because Finn wasn't there.<p>

A knock on the other side of the windscreen made him flinch, but a simple look told him that it was just a rather irritated looking Stork.

"Get inside before you get hypothermia!" he yelled, voice muffled by glass and distance.

Aerrow sighed. He didn't want to head back in yet, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to find Finn like this, so he reluctantly re-entered the bridge.

"Don't know how you expected to find him like that," muttered Stork as he wiped the area on the glass where he had knocked.

"It was worth a shot," Aerrow said as he sat – or more accurately, slumped – on the couch. "I mean, how far could he have gone? He left his ride here along with his crossbow and armour, and if he hates Amestris so much, he wouldn't have gone through the Breach."

"And yet you sent Piper in there to look around…"

"Just in case!"

At that moment, the door opened and Radarr ran in, and jumped up on Aerrow's shoulder.

"Any luck?" asked the Sky Knight.

Radarr shook his head with a sad frown.

"So he's not anywhere on the ship," Aerrow muttered to himself. "It's almost eleven at night. He's never been out by himself for this long! Why hasn't he come back yet?"

"Why are you asking me?" asked Stork. "It's not like I'm all that bothered. He's bound to come back sooner or later."

The opening door and heavier-than-usual footsteps heralded the arrival of the team strongman.

"I looked all over the terra," said the fearful-sounding Junko. "I even asked around in all of the shops that were still open, but none of them had seen Finn since earlier this afternoon. Hasn't he come back yet? I'm getting scared!"

"He's nowhere on the ship," Aerrow reported as Radarr shook his head again. "Are you sure you looked everywhere you could?"

"I've been all over the place and I haven't even spotted him once!" cried Junko, and he sat down with the most dejected possible face. "You don't think he might've left us for good, do you? He might not even be on Atmosia anymore!"

"He wouldn't go anywhere without his crossbow," Aerrow pointed out. "His skimmer's still here too, and you know how much he loves it. He wouldn't just go borrowing someone else's ride, especially when his is still here and pretty much intact. And even if he had left, where would he go?"

Junko didn't respond beyond a quiet "…don't know…" and Radarr whined at around the same volume.

"Try not to worry, okay?" said Aerrow. "The last thing we should do in this situation is freak out."

The door opened again and, with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, Piper re-entered.

"I asked around at Central Command and they said that the only person, let alone blond teenage boy that they've had come through the Breach today was Edward," she reported, "and they definitely would've noticed if anybody else had entered that way. Judging by your faces, I'm guessing he hasn't come back by himself yet."

Junko shook his head sadly.

"We'll stay here for the night," said Aerrow, "and if he's not back by then, we'll ask around again in the morning. And if we still don't find him, I say we branch out and start searching other terras. Finn's not the sort of person who'd just disappear off the face of the planet for no reason; there has to be _somebody _out there who knows where he is or where he might be."

Perhaps if he had believed in his words a little more, he would have been more convincing, but the worry in his voice was just a little too obvious for him to be reassuring.

"Does anybody volunteer to stay up in case he comes back during the night?" asked Piper. "Because I'm exhausted from walking around the command centre all evening and I don't think I could make it for two more hours, let alone until the sun comes up."

"I'll do it," said Junko. "Finn's my best buddy. I'd stay up for a whole week if it meant he'd be okay."

Piper smiled.

"You're a good friend, Junko," she said. "Finn would definitely _not _abandon you if he could help it."

Aerrow got up and left the room.

It was bad enough that Ed had left for an entire week, meaning he'd have to study and revise what he'd already learned and read a whole bunch of books rather than getting into the nitty and gritty of alchemy training – coupled with the fact that one of his friends had left and there was nothing he could (or would) do about it – but now Finn was gone too. And the worst part was that at least he knew where Ed was, where he was going and when he would be back. In this case, he had absolutely _no idea _where his oldest friend could be.

Had he decided he wasn't needed anymore and was going to go and find another squadron to take him in? Was he going rogue or planning on starting his own squadron? And if it was either of those things, why? Why would he decide to just up and leave? It wasn't like him at all. Finn's defining trait – besides his clumsiness, sharpshooting skills and occasional lack of tact and intelligence – was his loyalty. There was no way he would just leave the Storm Hawks without telling anybody.

And even if he did, he would always make sure to come back.

Wouldn't he?

As if sensing his troubling thoughts, Radarr nuzzled against Aerrow's cheek, and Aerrow scratched behind his ears to thank him for the comfort.

"Maybe I'm just thinking too much," he wondered aloud. "Finn _wouldn't _leave without telling anyone unless he was going to come back soon after. It's just not like him."

Radarr shrugged. It was clear that in this situation they were on equal levels of cluelessness.

"He'll be back by morning," said Aerrow. "I'm certain of it."

He only wished he could be certain exactly who it was he was reassuring.


	4. Chapter 4

_-an explosion somewhere far away, then a sharp burst of pain in his lower left leg-_

He twitched violently, struggling to run despite the agony he suddenly felt.

_-falling to his knees on the cold ground, seeing through his own body, and the blood, so much blood-_

"No…" he gasped, "no… _no_…"

_-hearing a noise behind him and looking back just in time to see-_

"AERROW!"

He jolted awake.

As he tried to catch his breath, he realised that he was sitting up against the wall, his sheets tangled around his legs, with Piper holding him down with his hands on either side of him and looking at him with a mixture of determination and fear. He glanced around and saw Radarr picking himself up off the floor.

"Aerrow," said Piper, "name five things you can see."

Aerrow blinked sweat out of his eyes.

"You," he said breathlessly, "Radarr, my shelf, my bed sheets, and my clock."

"Take deep breaths. Name four things you can feel."

"U-uh… your hands, sweat on my forehead, my sheets on my legs, and the wall against my back."

"Name three things you can hear. Breathe, don't forget to breathe."

"Um, the engines, uh… your voice and my own breathing."

"Deep breaths. Name two things you can smell."

"The lubricant for my automail and… and Radarr's fur."

Radarr jumped back up onto the bed and sat beside the Sky Knight.

"Now name one thing that makes you happy," said Piper.

Aerrow didn't have to think too hard for this one.

"Flying," he said. "Flying makes me happy."

Piper sighed in relief and released his hands, and both of them slumped against the wall. Radarr gave Aerrow a tight hug and Aerrow stroked his head in gratitude.

"Thanks, Piper," he said. "I needed that."

"I know," said Piper. "The entire ship could hear you kicking the walls. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole of Atmos heard all the noise you were making. You were dreaming about that night again, weren't you?"

Aerrow nodded, and wiped some dust out of his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Piper.

"No," said Aerrow. "No, I-I'd rather not."

"That's okay," Piper said calmly. "Do you want me to stay with you for a little while?"

"Yeah," Aerrow said, though his voice was shaky. "Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you. Sorry, I must've woken you up."

"No, I was awake anyway," Piper informed him. "I was relieving Junko of his watch, so I'm afraid I won't be able to stay for very long."

"Finn still hasn't come back?"

Piper shook her head.

"Unbelievable," Aerrow muttered. "Do you think he might've actually left us? Do you think he might've run away and abandoned us?"

"I don't know," Piper admitted. "He didn't take anything with him. No clothes, no money, no food, nothing. He couldn't strike out on his own even if he wanted to, and I'm not entirely convinced he wanted to. This just isn't like him. Finn _doesn't _leave by himself. Ever!"

Aerrow felt more than a little lost. He couldn't think of anything he could do or say that might improve the situation.

"Are you going to be okay?" asked Piper. "Just that I need to be keeping an eye out in case Finn does come back. I should go back to the bridge if you're going to be okay with being alone."

"I won't be alone," Aerrow pointed out. "I've got Radarr with me, remember?"

Though she didn't look convinced, Piper got up and walked towards the door.

"If you're sure," she said, "then sleep well."

Somehow the room felt lonelier after she'd left. Aerrow wondered if he might be more comfortable if he could get outside, at least for a few minutes.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked Radarr.

Radarr chirped with a happy smile, and jumped onto Aerrow's shoulder as the Sky Knight got up and left his room, picking up his coat as an afterthought.

Walking through the corridors, he couldn't help but notice how eerie this ship seemed at night. The only noise he could hear aside from his own footsteps was the low, quiet background hum of the new heating system pumping warm air through the ship. The fact that they were now in winter definitely wasn't helping matters in the slightest. He made sure his coat was on snugly and securely, because when he reached the outside, the cold air would hit him like a brick wall to the face. His left shoulder was already beginning to complain, and he rubbed it with a frown.

'And this is just with one limb gone,' he thought to himself. 'I'd never be able to cope if I'd lost a leg too. How much pain must Ed have been in?'

"It's okay," he said the worried-looking Radarr. "Just a little ache."

Radarr's expression turned to sarcastic disbelief.

"Okay," said Aerrow, "so it's not so little, but it's nothing I can't handle, alright?"

Radarr still didn't look convinced.

"And I'm not gonna go back to the kitchen and get some painkillers just to make you happy, so get over yourself. You're not the boss of me and you never will be."

Aerrow stopped in his tracks.

"Wait," he said slowly, "did I really just say that? That was… I don't know _what_ that was!"

Now Radarr _really _looked worried.

"I'm sorry," said Aerrow. "I never thought I'd say anything so… jeez, what's happening to me?"

He rubbed his head, trying and failing to figure out how he could have said anything so bitter and cruel to one of his best friends.

"I really need some fresh air," he decided, even though he wasn't entirely sure it would help. "You wanna get in my coat? It's gonna be cold out there."

He held his coat open and Radarr gratefully jumped in and cuddled his body, and Aerrow hugged him to the best of his ability.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't mean to snap like that. You know that, right?"

He was glad to see Radarr smiling again.

When they eventually reached the hangar, it was a surprise to discover that the doors were already open, most likely because somebody was already out there, sitting at the end of the runway. And by the size and shape, it was obvious who it was.

"What's he doing out here?" Aerrow muttered.

Radarr shrugged and made a noise that sounded almost like 'I don't know'.

His concern levels rising and curiosity piqued, Aerrow walked down the runway, trying hard not to shiver as a cold breeze bit at his face. He was glad to be outside in the fresh air, as staying in the Condor for too long could get borderline claustrophobic, but at the same time, he didn't want to spend too long out here when it was such a cold and dark night.

So what was one of his best teammates doing out here?

He stopped when he was several feet from the edge of the runway.

"Hey," he said.

Junko glanced up to see who it was and quickly returned to staring out at the scenery.

"Hey," he responded glumly.

"What're you doing out here?" Aerrow asked. "Aren't you cold?"

"A little," said Junko.

Aerrow figured he knew what this was about. He sat down next to the Wallop, though trying not to get too close.

"You're worried about Finn, aren't you?" he asked. "I know the rest of us are."

"I just can't stop thinking about it," Junko said, and sounded like he could cry at any moment. "He's had arguments with pretty much all of us in the past, but none of them have made him leave for this long before. What if he really has quit? What if he really doesn't want to come back?"

Aerrow looked out at the sleeping terra. The streetlamps were the only light sources aside from the beacon tower and the natural light of the stars and moon, as everybody else had gone to sleep hours ago and was most likely still there.

"Finn's been with us for years," he pointed out. "He'd need one hell of a reason to just abandon us. And if he really is upset about Ed being here, why would he choose the week without him to leave? It just doesn't make sense."

Radarr squawked in agreement.

"See?" Aerrow said. "Even Radarr agrees with me."

Junko spent several seconds looking out at the town.

"What if…" he said slowly. "What if he's been kidnapped?"

"Kidnapped?" Aerrow was alarmed by the notion. "Who would want to kidnap Finn?"

"Cyclonia?" Junko suggested. "He's one of our best members, remember? He's our sharpshooter and wingman, and our friend. He's good at making bad situations seem… well, not really good, but less bad. And even if it wasn't Cyclonia, he's pretty good at making enemies too. Probably even more than you."

"Gee, thanks," Aerrow said sarcastically.

"Sorry," Junko said with a little giggle.

"You're right, though," said Aerrow. "Finn's important to us. I don't think even he realises how vital he is to the running of the Storm Hawks."

He stood up.

"Let's go back inside," he said. "It's a lot colder than I'd hoped for. You don't want to get a cold, do you? Stork will never forgive you if you do. We'll keep searching for Finn in the morning and we're not going to stop until we have him back. Sound good?"

Junko smiled and got up.

"You're right," he said. "You're always right. Thanks, Aerrow."

"Trust me," said Aerrow. "I'm way off from being always right. That's Piper's area of expertise. But thanks anyway."

* * *

><p>Aerrow kept Radarr cuddled to his chest as he sat back down on his bed.<p>

"Yeah," he said, "it's definitely colder than I'd anticipated."

Radarr gave him a look that was somewhere along the lines of 'what did you expect?'

"I know," said Aerrow. "It's winter. I should've expected it. Guess I still wasn't thinking all that straight."

He pulled his cosy red coat tighter around himself and his co-pilot, who eyed him with concern.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm okay now."

Still wearing his coat, he slipped under the bedsheets.

"You don't think Finn would leave, do you?" he asked.

Radarr shook his head.

"He'd have to have one hell of a good reason," Aerrow said, partly to himself but mostly to his friend. "He'd have to be… I dunno, infected with some super-contagious plague? Brainwashed? He wouldn't let himself get brainwashed and he wouldn't hide it if he was sick. Stork definitely would _not_ let him. I just don't get it. He doesn't have any legitimate reason to abandon us, does he?"

Another head shake.

"Am I thinking too much about this? He'll probably be back by morning anyway. Unless he really did get kidnapped, in which case I don't have any idea what might've happened to him. If he was, I feel sorry for whoever took him. He'll make their lives hell. I give them eighteen hours before he annoys them so much that they beg us to take him back."

Radarr raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Yeah," Aerrow said, "maybe twelve hours would be more realistic."

Both of them sniggered.

Aerrow eyed the coat he was wearing. The fabric was still as red as the first day he had seen it, months upon months ago in the library not five miles away. He couldn't see it, but he knew that the flamel design on the back would still be as solid as it had been back then.

"Is he still jealous of Ed, do you think?" he asked.

Radarr shrugged.

"I probably am thinking too much about this," Aerrow said. "I bet my mind will be clearer after I get some proper sleep. You'll wake me up if I have another nightmare, won't you?"

With a friendly but determined smile, Radarr nodded again.

"Thanks," said Aerrow. "I really appreciate it."

He rested his head back down on the pillow.

"Good night," he said. "See you in the morning."

* * *

><p>There was a loud crash as a heavy piece of machinery was dropped down on the box that Aerrow used as a bedside table, and Aerrow was jolted back into the waking world to see their radio now placed there, gently crackling in his face.<p>

"You got a call," Stork said bluntly, and left the room.

Aerrow exchanged a confused glance with Radarr, who had also been awakened and was just as baffled by the abruptness, before reaching for the receiver and switching it into speaking mode.

"This is Aerrow of the Storm Hawks," he said. "Who is this?"

"Goooooooooooooooood morning, Atmosia!" replied a loud, cheerful voice from the other end of the line. "It's half past seven in the AM and already shaping up to be a B-E-A-utiful day with clear skies and light winds! It's a perfect day for flying out in the open, practising your Sky Fu or for kicking as much Cyclonian ass as you damn well please!"

Aerrow couldn't avoid laughing at how ridiculous this sounded.

"Dad, why do you have to be such a dork?" he asked through his giggles.

"Because you had to inherit a wild sense of humour from somebody and it sure as skies wasn't going to be your mother," said Lightning Strike, "and anything like what I just said is a whole world better than an alarm clock like the one that woke me up at 6. I swear, one of these days, I'm gonna whack it with a sledgehammer."

Aerrow couldn't avoid smiling.

"Thanks," he said. "I needed that laugh."

"Why?" asked the soldier. "What's happened?"

It wasn't until he had opened his mouth to speak again that Aerrow realised he had no idea what he should say. Would he have to fully explain the situation to his father? That Finn hadn't come back yet, as the lack of obnoxiously loud music was telling him? And if he did, how would the man react?

Would he chastise the Sky Knight for not looking out for his teammates properly? Would he be angry or disappointed if he did? Or maybe both?

"Aerrow," said the voice of Lightning Strike, as he had sensed the loss of attention. "Aerrow, what's wrong?"

Now he sounded properly concerned. Aerrow knew he had already hesitated for far too long, and there was no point in trying to hide it now.

"We… Finn's missing," he confessed. "He had an argument with Piper and walked off, and we haven't seen him since."

"And you're sure he didn't come back during the night?"

"Positive. He would definitely have made sure I knew."

All he got in response was a quiet background crackle. He found himself straining his ears, trying to hear something, _anything _that could have come from his wingman, but only the humming of the heating system and gurgling of the pipes (minus the terrible singing that accompanied Finn's showers) were audible.

"Dad?" he tentatively asked. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," Lightning Strike replied. "I was just… what did he argue with Piper about? Did she tell you?"

"He's never exactly seen eye to eye with the rest of us when it comes to Amestris," Aerrow explained. "Ed's left for a week to visit Al for his birthday, but Finn was upset because he knew he'd be coming back. So he walked off and he hasn't returned yet. We're going to look around for him today, but I'm not really feeling all that hopeful. To tell the truth, I'm not a hundred percent sure where we should even start."

"I'm not surprised," said Lightning Strike. "You remember what I wrote in my old journal about when Ace went missing, don't you? So I understand the desperation you must be feeling, and you shouldn't worry about not finding him because he's sure to turn up eventually."

He was trying to be reassuring – that much was obvious – and the fact that it wasn't working only made Aerrow feel worse. He wanted to feel comforted. He wanted to know that everything was going to work out well. And he knew that several months ago, that was exactly how he would have felt.

But things had changed.

_He _had changed.

"I'm going to ring off now," Lightning Strike said. "I'm sorry I couldn't talk longer, but I have errands to run. I'll leave you to do your search and I'll call back later tonight. You let me know if you haven't found him by then, okay?"

"Why?" asked Aerrow, whose cynicism was quickly rising to flash-flood levels. "What can you do? You don't know where he is, do you? And in any case, this whole world thinks you're dead! If you just show up after all this time, they'll freak!"

"Don't worry, okay?" Lightning Strike said gently. "I know what I'm doing and how I'm going to do it. I've been in hiding for almost twelve years already; I think I've got the hang of it by now."

Aerrow felt as though he was supposed to be smiling.

"See you soon," said his father. "Stay strong, big guy."

The radio went silent.

"Are you finished in there?" asked Stork from the corridor, where he had clearly been listening in. "'Coz if so, I'm putting the radio back!"

He uncharacteristically stomped into the room and snatched up the heavy device.

"What's got you so grumpy?" Aerrow asked. "Did one of your rashes flare up again?"

"Perhaps," said Stork, "but also I've been awake since this time yesterday and am currently somewhere between nirvana and hell."

"You stayed up all night?!"

"It wasn't by choice! I couldn't get to sleep knowing that one of our number is missing and it was so quiet I could practically hear the mushrooms growing in the walls and _don't try to deny it! _I've seen the spores drifting around and I know I'll breathe them in eventually!"

Even the door closing behind him seemed far more angry than it usually was.

"Wow," muttered Aerrow as he and Radarr stared blankly at the closed door as if expecting something else to happen. "If that's what he's like without one night of sleep, imagine if he went totally insomniac!"

He flopped back onto his bed, wishing he could snatch just a few more minutes of slumber.

"You think we'll find him?" he wondered aloud. "You think he'll actually show up?"

Radarr hugged as much of the Sky Knight as he could wrap his furry arms around, and Aerrow gratefully returned the embrace.

"He will," he said, partly to Radarr but mostly to himself. "He'll be fine. He'll turn up safe and sound and we'll move on with our lives and totally forget this ever happened. Right?"

The response from Radarr was an optimistic nod.

"Then let's go," Aerrow said, and he sat up. "We've got ourselves a marksman to find."

* * *

><p>For several weeks now, Finn had been considering buying himself a new pair of boots. His old ones were beginning to fall apart, and if he held onto them for any longer, odds were that the hole in the left one would get large enough for his whole big toe to fit through.<p>

However, he was currently thanking his lucky stars that he had procrastinated on this little venture of vanity as he locked his fingertips around a nail head that was sticking out of his right heel, loosened by an entire night of digging around in the ancient leather and wearing the fingernails on his left hand to useless little nubs that he couldn't bite even if he tried.

"Come on," he murmured, tugging with as much might as he dared, lest he lose his grip as it came out and send it flying away out of reach. "Come on, you little piece of… just a little more…"

He knew it was a bit of a long shot. Piper had tried to teach him lock picking, but he'd never completely gotten the hang of it even with all the appropriate tools that were apparently necessary. If he suggested to her that he could pick a lock on a handcuff using a nail pulled from an old shoe, she would most likely laugh in his face and tell him that the floor wasn't going to wash itself. But he knew that – provided of course that he had the right amounts of concentration and patience – he could prove her wrong. And then _he _would be more than justified in laughing in _her _face.

Of course, she was probably going to laugh at him anyway for allowing himself to get kidnapped and chained to a toilet, but once he made his daring escape and walked back onto the Condor to show off the still-stinging wound under his right eye, she would laugh no more as he told his epic tale of escape.

A wave of elated bliss washed through his mind as the nail finally came fully loose and slipped out of the thick leather, and he almost fainted from sheer relief. He had been wondering if it would even be possible, if he could even pull it out, and now he had!

Now there was the matter of picking the lock and making his getaway before his captor woke up.

He shuffled to find a more comfortable position (not that it was easy, with his back aching from bending over for so long and his rear end sore from all the time spent sitting on the hard metal floor) and inserted the sharp end of the nail into the keyhole.

This wasn't going to be easy. If he angled the nail the wrong way, it would get wedged and he'd never be able to get it – or his hand – out of the cuff. If he angled it a different way that was also wrong, he risked breaking the lock and the only way to get free then would be to remove either the pipe or his hand. Finn had decided, once his left middle finger had started bleeding, that if this failed he was going to try his utmost to remove the pipe, because there was no way in hell he was getting rid of his hand. He needed his hands. Almost as much as he needed his eyes.

And besides, the only plausible way he could remove his hand without anybody else helping was with his teeth.

_Ew._

He paused and wiped away sweat from his forehead, and feeling the water disappear suddenly reminded him of how parched he was. He hadn't had anything to drink since…

Yesterday?

How much time had passed? How long had he been locked in this place that didn't have any visible time reference?

And anyway, where was this place? He had assumed he was on a ship, and he could only assume because he'd been forced to keep his eyes closed until he was properly imprisoned (the persuasive powers of a sharp knife were really quite amazing).

If this was a ship that was still in flight – and it was hard to tell since the engines weren't as loud as the Condor's – then he was utterly screwed.

Finn took a deep breath. He couldn't think about this right now. He had to _concentrate_.

'Just stay cool,' he told himself as he wiggled the nail around. 'This'll all be over soon. You can go home and forget this ever happened: listen to some music, plan pranks with Junko, spar with Aerrow if you can convince him. Stay cool, Finn. Stay cool. It'll all be over soon. It'll all be over soon. _It'll all be over soon_.'

_Click_

The cuff fell away from his wrist and dangled loosely on the pipe.

It was a few moments before it properly hit him. His hard work had paid off. The first stage of his escape was completed. He could stand up properly. He was free. He was _free_.

He fell back, wincing as his sore behind hit the floor.

"I did it," he muttered, watching the metal rings glint in the dim light. "I'm free, I did it!"

He jumped up, away from the toilet, and leaned back against the sink. It felt good to be able to stand up straight again, and he rolled his arms around just for the feel of it.

Now he could get a proper look at his wound.

After wiping away some of the mirror's grime, he saw that the cut had dried into a dark shade of brownish-red, the same colour as the blood still stuck to his jaw. Judging by how wide it was, it was definitely going to leave a scar.

He turned on the tap, only for a brief moment to wet his hands, and wiped off as much of the dried blood as he could. Then it did it again, only rather than using the water to clean his face, he caught as much of it as he could in one hand and sipped it up. It tasted worryingly strange, but it was water and he needed it.

'Crud,' he thought as the pipes let out a low _hurgle_. 'Hope I didn't wake up the freak show.'

The door, he quickly discovered, wasn't locked. It slid open as he approached and he looked around the corridor on the other side, his heart pounding, feeling like it was about to jump out of his mouth. After a moment's consideration, he retreated into the bathroom and pulled his boots off. His socks made way less noise, and with how rusty the floor was (how was this thing even airworthy?) he wasn't going to slip on it anytime soon.

He looked around the corridor again. It was still empty.

With the hairs on the back of his neck standing even more on end than they usually did, he crept down the corridor away from the sounds of the engine, praying against all hope that he was headed in the right direction.

When he reached the door at the far end after what felt like an eternity of Stork-style stalking, it opened to reveal a cockpit.

So he _was_ on a ship, and a rather old one at that. Judging by the smell, it was probably an old fishing trawler, since it wasn't just terra-sized monsters that liked the taste of sky krill. He cringed at the stench that thankfully hadn't been present in the location he'd spent a majority of his time.

There was a clock set into the dashboard which informed him that it was eight o'clock in the morning. He'd been here almost two thirds of a day already.

And judging by how the clouds were moving, the ship was airborne. Some kind of autopilot system.

_Shit_.

But that didn't mean he still couldn't try to get help, right?

He saw the door to the outside nearby and pulled it open, and felt the cold wind flood in and wrap around him like a shroud. After spending so long cooped up in a stuffy and suspicious-smelling bathroom, it was exactly what he needed.

After making sure his grip on both sides of the doorway was secure, he leaned out and looked around at the towering clouds.

Not a ship to be seen.

Dammit.

Well, if he waited long enough then maybe-

Finn froze.

He didn't dare move.

Because it's hard to muster up enough courage to even lift a finger when a strong, firm hand has just taken hold of your hair.


	5. Chapter 5

"Going somewhere?"

Before Finn had the opportunity to splutter out a terrified reply, he was wrenched backwards by the head and the door was slammed shut, cutting off any hope of an escape. His captor dragged him to a wall and thrust him against it with a single hand tight around his throat.

"You're not. Going. _Anywhere_," the Merb snarled. "You're important to me for a very specific reason. I have a job to do. A very _specific_ job. And if you go throwing yourself out of this ship-"

"I… wasn't…" Finn choked, straining to reach the floor with his feet.

"No," said his assailant, "you weren't."

Finn was about to try pulling at the tight fingers around his neck, but before he got the chance he was thrown to the floor and blacked out.

It was only a few seconds before he awoke, but he didn't dare open his eyes. He could feel those fingers in his hair again, only this time they were dragging his body, and the pain in his scalp was almost too much to bear. His eyes watered in spite of being closed and he gritted his teeth and told himself it would all be over soon.

Because it would be, wouldn't it? It was obvious he was going to die. He knew it. His captor had promised to kill him if he tried anything clever, and as far as Finn was concerned, picking the cuff lock with a nail from his aging boot was pure genius. He was going to be killed on this ship and none of his teammates would ever know what had happened to him. They'd probably just think he'd abandoned them out of spite.

He could hear his mind screaming at him, telling him to pick his legs up, wrestle his way out of his kidnapper's grip and make a break for it, but he knew it would be useless. They were in flight. He had nowhere to escape to and no means of doing so without commandeering the ship he was on, and he had no idea how to do that. The most experience he'd had with flying a large ship was taking temporary control of the Condor, and even then that was only because nobody else wanted to with the ship being upside down.

And this was so, so different. He was on a strange ship, god knows how far from his beloved home, and in the grasp – literally – of an apparently eye-fixated psychopath.

He was going to die here and there was nothing he could do about it.

He heard a door open and was suddenly released as he was thrown against another wall, hit his arm on several pipes and collapsed to the floor.

Only then did he dare to open his eyes.

He was in some kind of closet off the engine room. It was dark – he could barely even see his own hand in front of his face – and as he felt his way up the wall, his hands hit pipes and rough, rusty rivets that scratched his fingers. He could only just make out the location of the door thanks to an outline of light.

Finn scrambled to his feet. It was probably hopeless, but he could try rushing the bastard. Just one more last ditch attempt. He didn't have anything to lose.

Well, actually he had a lot to lose.

But it was still worth the effort.

The door opened again and, screaming in rage, he ran out of the closet straight past his captor-

-who seized his upper arm and, with the almost unnatural strength of a Merb, wrenched him backwards into the closet with enough force to tear the sleeve clean off his arm and send him crashing to the floor again.

He wanted to get up and try again, but his body wasn't complying. Adrenaline seemed to be taking its sweet time and he was currently in a state of 'That was a rather nasty fall, I think I'm just going to lie here for a while'. It was all he could do to try to pull himself up with a cold draught chilling his now-bare right arm, as if it wasn't sore enough already from the bruises that were already forming.

As he lay there, stunned and struggling to figure out what he should do, his captor grabbed his wrists and pulled them up, and cuffed him to a nearby pipe.

"You're not going anywhere from now on!" he snarled in Finn's face. "Understand?!"

"I understand, I understand!" Finn cried desperately. "I'm sorry! I promise I won't try to escape again! I promise!"

He could hear and feel his voice cracking from terror, and it only got worse as he caught sight of the knife's familiar glint.

"That's not enough," said its wielder. "You said you weren't going to try anything clever, and you did. You broke your promise once. So how should I stop you from doing it again?"

Again, he held the blade dangerously close to Finn's eye, but this time seized the blond's jaw and held him in place with a vice-like grip.

"Please…" Finn could only whisper, "please… _please…_"

"Hmm?"

The blade swiped up and Finn cried out in shock and pain as a fresh cut was carved into his face, bisecting his eyebrow and setting blood trickling down into his eye. He tried to catch his breath but the hand on his jaw meant he could only gasp for air. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was nowhere near water, but he felt like he was drowning.

"I couldn't hear you," the Merb said calmly. "What do you want?"

Finn tried to gulp.

"I don't want you to hurt me," he said, and felt an involuntary tear roll down his cheek. "I don't want you sticking that knife anywhere near my eyes, please. Please. Please, just don't hurt me."

"Still can't hear you."

The knife was back, and again, it was extremely close to Finn's eye.

"I said please!" Finn repeated, louder, with more tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "Please! Please don't hurt me!"

"Louder."

It shined even in the almost-non-existent light, still as sharp as the first time Finn had seen it, and right now it was all he could see, filling his entire world.

"PLEASE!" he shouted, as loud as his lack of oxygen would allow him. "PLEASE STOP! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN, I PROMISE! _PLEASE!_"

But the blade just wouldn't stop getting closer.

"_Louder_."

* * *

><p>"And you're sure you haven't seen him anywhere else since then?"<p>

"No," said Fauna, "not since yesterday."

"I'm sorry we couldn't help more," Flora said. "You could try asking the Doc, but I'm not sure if he'll be much use. He's out round the back looking at flowers."

Aerrow forced himself to contain his disappointment. If it was any other day he would be baffled by the idea of Dr Clipwing looking at flowers, but right now he had far more important things on his mind.

"Okay," he said. "Thanks anyway."

He left the building and tucked his hands under his arms, as even with his gloves on he was still rather cold. Frigid wind blew past him and his attention was caught as it whistled and moaned through the nearby tree, and silhouetted against the cloudy sky, it made for one of the most depressing images he had ever seen.

'Jeez,' he thought as he shivered. 'I'd like to see somebody put _that _on a birthday card.'

He felt a particularly violent twitch – the kind where you feel as though somebody is walking over your grave – and walked around to the back of the building. There, as Flora had said, was the doctor, and as she had said, he was kneeling down in front of a small white flower.

"Dr Clipwing?" he said, trying to get the man's attention.

"Ssh," hissed the doctor.

Curious and slightly annoyed, Aerrow stepped a little closer. The flower, he noticed, was drooping towards the ground and its petals were shaped like water droplets. Despite its noticeably floppy stem, Dr Clipwing didn't seem worried about its wellbeing.

"It's been a while since I've seen a snowdrop," he said. "They were all over the place when I was younger, but now you're lucky if you see just one in a month."

He straightened up.

"So what're you here for?" he asked. "You're not in a bad mood too, are you? Only your friend was here yesterday and he was complaining about the new world or something."

"You saw Finn?" Aerrow felt his hopes rise, if only a little. "Where did he go after that? How long was he here?"

"Only about a minute," said the doctor, "and then I shooed him off to see the girls. I'm not having some grumpy pubescent darkening the doorway of my practise. Speaking of which, do you want anything important? You haven't said."

His acidic gaze made Aerrow feel even colder.

"Finn didn't come back to the Condor yesterday," he explained. "So we're searching for him and-"

"The last I saw of him, he was walking away from me, so I'm not sure how much help I would be, and if that's all you wanted then please go away," Dr Clipwing said bluntly.

If there was a prize for Worst Communication Skills, Dr Clipwing would doubtlessly be the sole winner. It was obvious Aerrow wasn't going to get any more information here, so he thanked the doctor for his time and left.

He walked with his head down, bracing himself against the cold wind, kept himself curled inwards to conserve body heat and tried to ignore the ache in his left shoulder. The sooner they could find Finn and get him home, the better. He hadn't taken any garments with him except those he'd left with, so (if he was outside) he would probably be freezing by now. Hopefully he'd found somewhere safe to sleep during the night, otherwise their search operation would probably turn into a corpse recovery mission.

He would have felt more optimistic, but he'd already asked around the entire terra already and nobody except Dr Clipwing and his assistants had seen Finn since yesterday. A few had reported glimpses of him, but nothing definite. It was more than a little depressing.

He heard a faint pitter-patter of paws in front of him and saw Radarr run into view.

"Anything?" Aerrow asked.

Radarr sadly shook his head.

"O-okay," said Aerrow, and quickly glanced up at the darkening clouds. "I think we'd better go back to the ship; it looks like it could start raining any minute."

As if signalling his agreement, Radarr jumped up and wrapped himself in Aerrow's coat again, snuggling into his chest and the warmth that it brought. Aerrow figured he should pick up the pace and, after pulling up his hood in case it did start raining, hurried in the direction of the parked Condor.

In the distance, somewhere towards the north, a low rumble of thunder echoed in their direction.

Aerrow sprinted. He didn't have any idea how fast he was moving and didn't care, even as his hood flew off and his feet threatened to slip out from underneath him, so heavily they hit the ground. Even Radarr stared at him in alarm at just how quickly he was moving, and at the stern, almost emotionless determination that was now set on his face.

"Gotta get home…" he muttered as he ran. "Gotta get home… gotta get home… gotta get home…"

Before he knew it, he was running up the ramp that was his entrance to the Condor, and would have paused to catch his breath were it not for the second, far closer grumble of thunder that prompted him to continue running.

He didn't stop until he was halfway down the corridor to the bridge, and fell to his knees feeling starved of all oxygen.

Resting a hand on the wall to avoid falling over, he panted and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"That…" he wheezed, "…that was…"

Radarr cast him a concerned look, as if trying to ask 'Are you okay?'

"I… I'm fine…" Aerrow panted. "I just… I don't like thunder… as much as I used to… sorry."

He straightened up and tried to stretch, and gave his still-sore shoulder another rub.

"Come on," he said, removing his coat and tying its sleeves around his neck. "Let's go check in with Stork. He's probably driving himself nuts trying to waterproof the bridge."

As if on cue, a massive yet muffled sound of rattling started to emanate from up above as the heavens unleashed their rainy wrath upon Terra Atmosia. Aerrow hoped that Junko and Piper could return sooner rather than later, because if they took too long on their respective return journeys they would surely be drenched to the bone.

Surprisingly, when the two arrived at the bridge, Stork was standing at the railing that ran around in front of the windscreen, gazing out at the grey sky and the thunderous rain.

"Stork?" Aerrow said tentatively. "Everything okay?"

"I dunno, man," Stork replied, sounding somewhat more on edge than his usual glum tone. "I've just got a real weird feeling in my gut and I don't think it was something I ate."

After exchanging a confused glance with Radarr, Aerrow took a few steps closer.

"So what do you think it is?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Stork. "I just feel like something horrible is happening. I mean, yeah. I feel that way pretty much every second of every damn day. But this seems kinda… I dunno, weird."

Aerrow opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a grumble of thunder that now sounded dangerously close. From somewhere in the back of his throat there emanated a low moan of fright.

Stork twisted and stared at him in shock.

"What was that?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Aerrow stammered, but he could feel goosebumps springing to life all up his arm and back and had to force himself not to cower. "It was nothing, I'm fine. I swear it. I'm _fine_."

There was a flash of lightning somewhere in the distance.

"If you'll excuse me," Aerrow said, taking a few steps closer to the door, "I have to go the… kitchen… to do some… kitchen things."

He darted out of the room.

Stork and Radarr stared at the empty space he had occupied only a few moments prior. Neither of them moved until the crashing explosion of the lightning finally reached them.

"Uh…" Stork said slowly, "…what just happened?"

Radarr shrugged.

* * *

><p>Piper shook her shoulders rapidly and flicked her hands in the direction of the floor. Anybody watching would probably think she was doing some strange sort of dance, but in actuality she was trying to rid herself of the rain that had saturated her on her return trip.<p>

She sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to become a regular thing.

As she approached the lever to close the hangar bay doors, another ride came sliding through, its occupant watching in terror as the squealing tyres brought him to a halt mere inches from the wall.

"Careful," she said pointlessly, "the floor's kinda wet."

"No kidding!" said the still-frightened Junko as he climbed off his skimmer, only to immediately slip on the extremely wet floor and fall flat on his back. Piper felt bad as she stifled a giggle.

"It's getting really bad out there," she commented, and closed the hangar doors before any rain could be blown in and replace all the wetness they'd shed. "I'm glad we got back when we did or else we'd probably drown out there."

"Any sign of Finn where you were?" asked Junko as he got up.

"No," Piper said sadly. "You?"

Junko dejectedly shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" Piper said gently. "He's going to come back sooner or later. He loves the Storm Hawks. He loves _you. _He wouldn't just up and leave just because of a silly argument."

Before Junko could respond, there was a massive crash of lightning from outside, followed by a muffled scream from somewhere further in the ship.

"That sounded like Aerrow!" Piper realised.

Suddenly worried for their leader, the pair ran full-pelt out of the hangar bay and down the corridors, searching for the source of the scream.

They halted when they saw Radarr standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Radarr, what's happening?" asked Piper.

"We heard Aerrow screaming!" said Junko. "Is he okay?"

Radarr just pointed into the kitchen, and it was only then that they realised Stork was talking.

"You do realise how dumb this is, right?" said the pilot. "How weird it is that the Sky Knight and leader of the Storm Hawks would be scared of storms? To the point where he's hiding in a closet in the kitchen?"

"Yes, I know!" responded Aerrow, though his voice was still muffled. "I know exactly how dumb this is and if anything that just makes me feel even worse!"

"So you're gonna come out?"

"No! Not until the storm's passed over!"

Unable to contain their curiosity, Piper and Junko leaned in.

Stork was sitting next to the kitchen island with an expression of utter resentment on his face, glaring in contempt at the nearest closet which had both doors firmly shut. The Merb's expression barely changed when he caught sight of the two newcomers.

"Hey, Junko and Piper just got back," he said, eyeing them with almost as much resentment, "and they're making a big puddle on my floor."

"Have they got Finn with them?" asked Aerrow.

"No," Piper said as she stepped into the room, "we don't. I'm sorry, but neither of us found him. Now Aerrow, what're you doing in the kitchen closet?"

She knelt down beside Stork.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Aerrow responded.

"It looks like you're hiding from the storm," said Junko.

"Yeah," said Aerrow, "'coz that's exactly what I'm-"

There was a flash of lightning and an almost instantaneous deafening crack of it hitting the ground.

"SHUT IT UP!" Aerrow shouted from within the closet. "JUST _SHUT IT UP!_"

"We can't shut it up," Stork pointed out, "it's _weather_."

"Aerrow, come out of there," said Piper. "You're only going to make it worse for yourself if you shut yourself away. And like Stork said, it's weather. There's not a whole lot we can do about it."

She and Stork took a step back as the cupboard swung open, and the hunched-up Aerrow revealed himself to them. He had wrapped his coat more tightly around his body than ever before and terror danced in his wide eyes. He even had wet streaks on his cheeks as though he had been crying.

"Unless one of you has a pair of noise-cancelling headphones that would shut out every single bit of thunder," he said, "and would be willing to let me borrow them, I'm not going to come out until this storm passes. Pull me out and I'll just go straight back in. I'm not just going to-"

Yet another low rumble of thunder grumbled in the clouds overhead, and Aerrow quickly slammed the door in their faces.

"I think I have noise-cancellers stashed away somewhere," Stork said with a pondering expression. "They broke last year though, so they probably aren't gonna be any-"

"I can fix 'em!" Junko seized Stork's arm and dragged him up. "Show me where they are!"

"As soon as you _let go of my arm!_" Stork complained as they disappeared from the room.

Radarr walked over and gently knocked on the door.

"I'm still in here," Aerrow said from within, "though I'm really wishing I could be somewhere else right now. What's the weather like on Terra Tropica?"

"Not much better," said Piper, and sat down next to the closet. "I saw it on my way back. It's more mild than this, but quite a lot more lightning."

Speaking of which, there was _another_ flash outside the window, followed by its deafening clap.

"No…" Aerrow could be heard whimpering, "_please…_"

Piper couldn't avoid feeling awful. She wished there was something she could do to reassure her friend properly, but it seemed that he was somewhere far beyond conventional help.

"Why are you so afraid of storms?" she asked. "You never used to be. Is it okay if you tell me?"

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence from Aerrow.

"It was… he said eventually, and sounded as though he was desperately staving off tears. "I-it was… that night, there was a storm… I-I could hear it… i-in the distance, somewhere outside the city… and now every time… every time I hear thunder or lightning… i-it feels like I'm back there… almost like it's happening all over again… a-and it hurts… it just… it hurts so much…"

There was another rumble of thunder, this one closer than ever before.

"…and I know it's just a feeling," Aerrow continued, sounding even more terrified than before, "I know I'm not back there… that it's all in my head… so I just feel stupid for feeling that way. It… it's dumb."

"It's not dumb," said Piper.

She opened the closet door to reveal Aerrow, who rubbed his shoulder and looked up at her from a tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes.

"Nobody should have to go through what you did," she told him. "You shouldn't be upset with yourself for still feeling it. After what you went through, this is pretty normal. I'm no psychologist, but I know that if you just persevere, you'll be alright in the end."

If anything, Aerrow looked more ashamed than before at her words.

"I get what you're saying," he said, "and I'm really grateful for it, but… but it's not working."

"I didn't expect it to," said Piper. "I just want you to be sure that I care about you and I want you to get better. All of us do. Especially Radarr."

Radarr looked around the side of the door with a friendly smile, and Aerrow somehow found himself smiling in return.

"So," said Piper, and held out her hand for him to take, "do you need some help getting out of there?"

At the flash of more lightning Aerrow flinched, but he still reached out and took Piper's hand.

"Wow," she said quietly. "Cold."

"It's steel and we're in the first month of winter," Aerrow pointed out. "It would be weird if it wasn't super cold. What did you expect?"

"Well then," Piper said, and helped him to his feet as he emerged from the closet, "I guess we're going to have to get you some thicker gloves, aren't we?"

Aerrow smiled, but it didn't take long to fade.

"What's wrong?" asked Piper.

"This is where Finn would make some dumb 'coming out of the closet' joke," said Aerrow.

"We'll find him," Piper said, and clasped Aerrow's hand with both of hers. "We might've been unsuccessful today, but tomorrow could be different. We just have to be patient."

Aerrow still looked doubtful.

"Come on," Piper said, and led him out of the kitchen. "Let's go and see if Stork's found you a pair of headphones yet. If not, then you can borrow Finn's and listen to some music. I'm sure he won't mind all that much."

* * *

><p>Darkness.<p>

Cold.

Fear.

Pain.

Finn felt all of these and more, but above all else was the pain. He'd never experienced anything like it and doubted he would ever again. Nothing would ever hurt as much as this.

_Nothing._

The door opened and he cowered back as much as he could, trying to hide behind his restrained arms and concealing his face behind a knee. He didn't want it to happen again. He didn't want any more pain. He wouldn't be able to take it.

"Scared, aren't you?" asked the one responsible for the pain.

Finn didn't respond.

He heard approaching footsteps and could feel the Merb drawing closer.

"Look at me," they said.

Taking a deep breath, Finn bit his lip to avoid whimpering. His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would jump out of his mouth, cold sweat was dripping from his forehead and his eye was watering. It had been years since he'd last felt so terrified.

He kept his head bowed as his captor knelt down in front of him.

"I said _look at me_," they repeated.

Finn's jaw was seized and he was forced to look up, and gritted his teeth as hard as he dared in an attempt to endure looking at this…

…this _monster_.

Who smiled widely at him, beady eyes glinting.

"Still so lovely," he said. "Like the colour of the sky after a terrible storm. So, so beautiful. Have you ever noticed?"

Finn couldn't believe what he was hearing. This psycho…

…how _could _he?!

He felt a tear roll down his cheek, like many had before it in the past few hours.

Or at least, he assumed it was hours. It could have been minutes or seconds, or it could just as easily have been days or weeks. Maybe he had been in here for months. He couldn't tell.

His jaw was released and his captor left him alone in the darkness.

Had he sensed that Finn was already scared beyond all reason? That there wasn't any point in trying to frighten him any further? Or was it because he was satisfied with the level of terror that the marksman was already feeling?

Not that he was a marksman anymore. He'd never be able to do that job. Not now, not ever again. His greatest talent had been ripped away in the space of less than five minutes and he wouldn't ever be able to get it back.

He'd been hoping his friends would be able to find him. That they would take him home and they could all forget this ever happened.

But why would they want him now?

What use would he be to them?

"Help…" he choked, failing to swallow the lump in his throat. "…please… someone… _help me…_"

He could feel tears trying to push out through his other eye, which only furthered the pain. More than ever he wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up in his bed and forget the whole world.

But he couldn't, could he?

Now, more than ever, he was sure that he was going to die on this old, stinking fishing trawler.

He'd never gotten a chance to apologise. He would die with his teammates thinking he hated them for liking Amestris and Ed and everything related to them. So they'd hate him. They wouldn't miss him.

But none of them would not miss him as much as…

…as _him_.

That bastard.

Finn was a young man of many regrets, but his main one was never properly confronting _him_. Never being able to tell _him_ exactly what he thought and felt, and never finding out what _he_ thought and felt in return. Angry? Sorry? He'd never find out now, would he?

Because he was going to die.

And even if he didn't, with what had happened earlier, he may as well be dead.

'Useless,' he told himself. 'I'm _useless_.'

His sobs reverberated, unheard by all except him, off the metal walls of the tiny room that had become his prison and, in all likelihood, his tomb.


End file.
